


Dolls and Puppets

by Koah



Series: RWBY: Providence AU [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/F, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Original Character-centric, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Male Character(s) - Freeform, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 21:29:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5349173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koah/pseuds/Koah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a simple job in theory: Go in, figure out what happened, and get out.  No problem for an ex-Huntress-in-training and a freelancer tourist.  In practice, it got a lot more complicated once they found out what happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Farrow Di Cicco

Farrow Di Cicco hated the quiet.

The cabin was silent save for the occasional muted bit of conversation that drifted through the door and the hum of the engines. There was nothing to focus on, nothing on hand to distract her, and when she had nothing to focus on her mind roamed, filled with racing thoughts she didn't want to contemplate or admit were her own. They circled, twisting in and around themselves, distorting her perceptions, a constant reminder of her misfortune, why she was there, and - most importantly - why she couldn't be where she wanted to be.

She buried her face in her hands. "I'm a fuck-up."

The young woman looked down at Farrow, pure blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. "You're not a mess-up."

"No, no no." She sighed as she ran her hands back through her short, wavy brown hair before slumping against her seat. "I wanted to become a Huntress, I got kicked out of Pharos, and now I'm pretending to be one doing jobs that real Huntsmen don't take. That sounds like fucking up to me."

"Farrow." The woman sat down beside her, her expression full of genuine concern. "It's a setback, and I know you're discouraged, but this isn't an end. You don't need to give up."

"I don't want to give up, I really don't. But they _know_."

"You don't know that."

"Jane, you think the Academies don't talk to each other?" she said, looking at her. "About their students? About _me?_ "

"You're being paranoid."

"I am not being paranoid!" she snapped. "Probably the second it happened the Headmaster had one of his... his _lackeys_ call it in. There's probably some blacklist set up to keep tabs on-" Jane gave her a look and she quickly calmed herself, averting her green eyes. "Sorry."

There was a series of thumps at the cabin door. "Miss Di Cicco. We're nearing the target area."

Farrow glanced at Jane before turning her attention to the door. "Right. Thank you."

"Is everything alright in there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, I'm just... I'm fine." She looked down at her legs; at the black, spindly frame of metal bars, pistons, and electronics surrounding and supporting them. "Well. Time to go to work."

 

\-----

 

The craft set down with a thud, the ramp dropped, and out poured a dozen soldiers. Farrow trailed behind them, feeling somewhat out of place in dark jeans, a grey t-shirt and a flak jacket amid a mass of urban camouflage. She watched as two other tiltjet transports set down nearby before she scanned the area, her eyes following the wide semicircle of the defensive perimeter. Guards and turrets had been set up, occasionally spraying rounds into a light forest already broken and scorched by preliminary fire. The outpost wall had collapsed inward, leaving a hole wide enough to drive a bus through. Surrounding it were several troops, some dragging Grimm corpses out of the way while others stood watch.

Farrow spread her arms and the gestalt of machinery on her back unfolded, extending down her limbs and sliding into place. Reaching over her shoulder she pulled her weapon off her back: A short, heavy, solid-stocked rifle. She pulled a thick magazine off her belt and fed it into the well before turning it on, and it let out a quiet pneumatic hiss as it chambered the first round.

Heading away from the ramp, she approached who she assumed was the officer in charge of the operation. He certainly looked the part, considering that he was wearing a beret rather than a helmet, giving orders to two sergeants, and standing by the corpse of an Ursa as if it were part of the landscape. She stood quietly behind him until the two soldiers departed, and as he turned to face her she straightened up.

He quickly looked her over. "You're the specialist?"

"Yes, sir."

He gestured towards a cluster of soldiers some distance away. "You'll be with Sergeant Bern's unit. You know how to use that?"

She glanced down at her rifle. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Just stay with the unit and follow his orders. If what was said about you is true, you'll do fine."

Farrow nodded, then turned and headed for the soldiers. "This probably won't be so bad," she said quietly to herself.

Sergeant Bern stopped talking to regard her with vague contempt once she neared the soldiers, and her optimism promptly evaporated. "You the person they hired to help out?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. Farrow Di Cicco, s-"

"That's 'Sergeant,' not 'sir.' Some of us work for a living."

Farrow tightened her grip on her weapon, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Jane. "Don't say anything. It's not worth it. Not here."

"As I was saying," Bern continued, returning his attention to the soldiers, "it's a standard search-and-rescue operation. We go in, clear the hostiles out, then evac the civilians." One of the soldiers held up his hand. "Jameson, this better be important."

"Don't we normally have dogs for search-and-rescues?" Jameson asked.

"We do, but the higher-ups decided to do things a little differently this time. Miss Di Cicco here will be providing support as a civilian contractor-" The two words came out of his mouth like a curse. "-and to test the viability of combined operations with outside organizations. Now if there aren't any more questions..." He scanned his squad; to Farrow it almost seemed he was daring them to ask something. "...good. Get your shit together and get ready to move out."

 

\-----

 

The soldiers stepped over the rubble, entering into a blind alley that lead up to a T-intersection. The men standing watch deactivated the turrets and parted, letting the squads through, and they hurried down the alley before standing guard on either side. Bern strode forward, flanked by two soldiers, and stopped at the mouth of the alley, looking one way and then the other with an expression of vague disinterest.

Farrow stood a few paces behind the Sergeant, listening to the growling and scratching of Grimm in the distance. She looked around at the soldiers surrounding her, checking to see where their attention was and, content that they were ignoring her, bowed her head, closed her eyes and let her focus slip away. Her awareness spread out like a wave across the void, passing through beings felt but not seen and leaving spikes and pits in its wake. Gently resting two fingers against her brow, she began counting under her breath. "...two, three..."

Her change in behavior did not go unnoticed by one of the soldiers, who looked at her quizzically before nudging his comrade. He inclined his head towards her, mouthing, "what's she doing?"

Sergeant Bern looked over his shoulder at one of the men beside him. "Specialist Brooke, get me a drone feed."

"The drones are down, Sergeant," Brooke said. "Nevermores took down the last two we sent up."

"Goddamnit. Tell me we at least have a map." Bern reached into a pouch at his hip and produced a heavy scroll, pulling it open and giving the screen a few taps before passing it off to the Sergeant, who studied it for a few seconds with a grimace before passing it back. "Alright, listen up," he boomed. "No drones means no thermals, so we're going to be doing this the old-fashioned way." He gestured down the streets in either direction. "We sweep up both sides, clear out any hostiles and go building by building to search for civvies. The outside perimeter's only going to last so long if they decide to attack again, so we're on a timer. Any questions?"

Farrow opened her eyes. "Seventy-four."

Bern looked back at Farrow, more annoyed than confused by the apparent non sequitur. "Excuse me?"

"There's seventy-four people left. I know where they are."

"Sounds to me like you're pulling numbers out of your ass and wasting my time."

Jane stepped out from behind Farrow with a pensive expression. "Tell him how strange working with Huntsmen could get."

She glanced at her, then looked back at Bern and said, "you said this was to try and see if you could work with Huntsmen, right?"

"I said 'outside organizations.'"

"What other organization could I be a stand-in for? If the plan goes through you're going to be dealing with people who do things that just aren't normal." She gestured to herself. "So if they say or do something strange there's a reason behind it. Seventy-four people. Trust me."

Bern stared at her for a moment before snorting in irritation and walking off to the right. "Brooke, your squad's heading up the left. Keep an eye on her. The rest of you, follow me."

 

\-----

 

The interior of the outpost was austere, bare concrete, stone, and glass buildings that towered over them, built for function rather than form. Its streets had seen better days, marred as they were by bent lampposts, claw-shaped furrows in the walls, spatters of blood, and scattered corpses of Grimm. Aside from Farrow and the soldiers there were no bodies in sight; she didn't want to think about why.

"Well, you're the one who knows where everyone is," Brooke said. "So where are they?"

"The nearest group of people is in that building." Farrow pointed to a store front, its wide windows covered with metal bars. "Ten of them, and the Grimm are..." Her brow furrowed. "...they're a few blocks off, but they're not moving."

Brooke gestured and the soldiers rushed forward, forming up on either side of the door. A single shot from one of the soldiers' masterkey broke the lock, and he kicked the door open. They quickly filed in, scanning the room, with Farrow trailing behind them, her weapon lowered. Save for a few fallen boxes the inside of the store was surprisingly untouched.

"All clear," one of the soldiers said.

"Check upstairs," Brooke replied.

"No, it's empty." Brooke looked back at Farrow to find her staring at the floor in the center of the room, eyes moving to and fro. She proceeded past the soldiers, following something along the ground before pushing open the door to the stock room. Gesturing for another soldier to follow, Brooke moved in behind her to find her looking at a wall.

"The map didn't have floor plans, did it?"

"No," he said. "Why?"

She raised a fist and pounded on the wall a few times. Silence reigned for a few moments, and just when Brooke was about to ask what she was up to there was the quiet hum of machinery as the wall shifted in a few inches. It slowly retracted to the side, revealing a man and a woman standing at the top of a dimly-lit downward staircase.

"Are they gone?" the woman asked.

"For now. We're going to get you out of here." She paused. "Well, I mean, the soldiers are. I'm helping."

The woman nodded nervously. Farrow hoped it wasn't because of her.

"Are there other bunkers like this?"

"Yes, they're in some of the larger buildings."

Brooke turned to one of the other soldiers with the radio. "Report in to Bern. Tell him that there are bunkers behind hidden doors in some of these buildings."

"So all those groups are..." Farrow's expression fell. Seconds later there were loud, all too close howls. "Oh no."

She broke for the front of the store just as the soldiers began shouting and gunfire rang out. The building was surrounded by Grimm, leaping and pounding against the barred windows, slavering jaws snapping as the soldiers drilled ammunition into them.

The front door broke apart in a cascade of glass and a heavy lupine beast, fur black as night, leaned in, paws on either side of the broken door frame as it snapped and growled. Without breaking stride Farrow charged the beast, raising her leg and delivering a straight kick. As the boot collided with the Grimm's muzzle there was a wet crack, and it howled in pain as as it reeled. She raised her weapon and opened fire, nails driving deep into its flesh. Pitching back, it tumbled down the steps, twitching a few seconds before falling motionless in a pool of ichor, joining its kin.

Over the din of gunfire she heard the squad's radio come to life. "This is Bern! We're being overrun! Civilian evac is no-go! Repeat, negative on the evac! Hold position and wait for support!"

She pulled off the magazine on her weapon and let it fall from her fingers as she reached for a pouch on her belt and pulled out a fresh one, sliding it into place. Looking back at Brooke she shouted, "can you hold out here?"

Brooke did a double-take from his firing position by one of the windows. "We'll try. What's your plan?"

"I'm going to go help Sergeant Bern! They know there's more people where he is!"

"Bern's on the other side of the outpost! You-" Farrow said nothing as she ran out the door. "What are you, crazy?!"

Oh so *now* they fuckin' care," she muttered.

As Farrow sprinted through an opening in the Grimm's ranks two lupine creatures in the rear of the pack broke off, charging after her. Turning, she firing her rifle one-handed at them, the shots missing the mark as they ducked and weaved through them, but slowing their pursuit.

She turned back in time to see a third Grimm drop down from the roof, landing on the hood of a dented car. Growling, it crouched down, and Farrow juked to the side as it lunged, its claws slicing through thin air as it landed beside her.

Farrow turned and flicked her wrist, and a block of metal slid down a rail along her forearm, stopping in her left palm and sliding apart into a vicious straight-edged machete. Raising her arm, she brought it down in a guillotine chop, severing its spine as it sank halfway into its neck, killing the beast instantly. Wrenching her blade free in a spurt of dark ichor she spun to face her two pursuers, opening fire with her other hand. The first caught a spray of nails to the head and collapsed, tumbling to a stop as the third pounced, knocking Farrow to the ground as her rifle fell from her hand.

The Grimm reared back for a bite, only to snap its jaws shut on the edge of her machete as she raised it in time to stop the blow. She struggled against it, pushing against the beast as it snapped and gnawed at the blade, drops of blood dripping down on her as it bit into its flesh, claws raking the pavement on either side of her. With the quiet hiss of pneumatics she lifted it far enough from her to plant her foot on its underside and, with a grunt, kicked it away. Rolling to her hands and knees she scrambled for her rifle, reaching it as the Grimm righted itself. It came to its feet just as she drew a bead on it, emptying the magazine into it and sending it to the ground once more.

"Get up, get up," she repeated, pushing herself back up to her feet. She continued to run, tossing away the empty magazine and replacing it with a fresh one. Something big was headed for Bern, and she only hoped she would reach him before it did.

 

\-----

 

Judging from the amount of dead Grimm, Bern's squad was doing better than Farrow had hoped, but seeing the amount of abuse the building they were in had taken they were doing worse than she expected. Several of the bars over the windows were broken away, and the front doors were smashed open, a desk set up as a makeshift barricade in its place. In an upstairs window an LMG rested on the sill, firing intermittently at the packs below.

She slowed her pace to a walk and paused to steady her nerves before raising her rifle, aiming, and opening fire. The bursts of gas went unheard over the din of gunfire coming from the building, and one Grimm fell, followed by a second, and a third. Several members of the pack turned to face the new threat; distracted, they were easily cut down by the soldiers. Thrown into confusion, the pack scattered and fled, Farrow and the soldiers taking pot shots at them as they retreated up the buildings and over the walls.

Farrow headed for the building, snaking through the bodies and coming to a stop outside the barricaded door. "Sergeant! There's a big one headed for the wall!"

If Bern was thankful for her help, he didn't show it. "I thought I ordered you to follow Brooke."

"They're fine, you're not. What's the biggest gun you have?"

One of the soldiers pulled a thick, pump-action weapon with a wooden stock off of a sling on his back. "Couldn't use it because the Grimm were too close," the soldier said.

There was a roar and a loud thud, and far to Farrow's left, the concrete wall of the compound visibly cracked and buckled.

She glanced over at the crack. "It's not enough. We need a rocket launcher or, or something."

"'Or something,'" Bern retorted, giving her a look. "Is that your tactical recommendation?"

"Can you get us bigger guns or are you just going to sit here acting like an asshole until you die?"

Behind Farrow, Jane cringed. "That's probably could have been phrased better."

Bern turned to one of his soldiers. "Call in a Dorian." His eyes flickered to the side as there was another loud thud at the wall. "Tell them we need air support."

"I'm going to need that, too," she said, pointing at the grenade launcher.

"What's your plan?"

"Distract it until help arrives."

Bern gestured to the soldier, then to Farrow. "Do it." As the soldier tossed the gun to Farrow he said, "we'll hold position here."

"Sir, that's not safe-"

"We're not abandoning the civilians, miss Di Cicco."

Farrow hooked her rifle onto her back, hefting her new weapon experimentally. "Right. Of course not."

Concrete tumbled to the ground as the wall gave way and a massive Ursa broke through, stepping over the chunks of stone as it let out a roar. It was less a beast and more a bulldozer of fur and flesh, standing ten feet at the shoulder, the bone-white carapace over its head marked and pitted with cuts and gashes from battles prior. Sniffing the air, it turned towards Farrow and the soldiers, letting out a deep, rumbling growl before lumbering towards them.

She broke into a sprint, heading away from the soldiers towards a clearing in the middle of the complex. Shouldering the weapon, she turned, took aim and fired, the grenade sailing through the air and exploding against the Grimm's flank. The beast stopped, more out of shock than of injury, before turning to face her, roaring in anger as it charged. Farrow backpedaled, the grenade casing falling to the ground as she pumped the grip before firing again. Her second shot hit the beast square in the face, and it let out a snarl as it recoiled in pain and veered to the side. She dove out of its path, and metal crumpled and glass shattered as it collided with a car, turning it on its side.

Farrow faced it again as she stood, working the pump action with her free hand as she pushed herself up. She let loose with a third round that struck the Grimm's foreleg and it nearly stumbled, turning towards her in time to get another grenade to the head, cracking the bone-white plating covering its skull and causing deep red streams of blood to ooze forth.

Tossing the empty weapon away she pulled her rifle off her back. "Shouldn'ta done this," she muttered, before opening fire into the Grimm's gaping maw. The beast roared in pain and began to charge, only to stop short as plumes of blood erupted from its side. Farrow's head snapped over to see a single-seat flyer come in over the wall, the autocannon on the underside of the cockpit pumping rounds into the Grimm's flank. It staggered for a moment before collapsing to the ground with a mournful cry, blood oozing out from beneath it.

Farrow stared at it, tearing herself away long enough to glance at her half-empty magazine. Jane stepped out from behind her. "Where are the rest of them?"

"Gone. The ones that didn't leave before fled when this one died."

She nodded. "If you didn't distract it, it would have broken through the building where Bern was. The bunkers aren't designed to stop something that big."

"Yeah. I know."

"Look at me."

Farrow raised her head, meeting Jane's eyes.

"You saved them. That doesn't sound like screwing up to me."


	2. Samuel Swarz

The young man cut a strange figure. The double-breasted long coat, thin leather gloves, and boots belied a connection to the military, but his clothes bore no rank, and the formality of his attire was spoiled by the hood of a sweater coming out of his collar and covering his head. Stranger still were the mirrored goggles and wire and cloth mesh mask that covered most of his face. Strangest of all, he seemed completely unaware of the odd glances and sidelong stares he received from other passengers as he headed through the train cars.

Passing a few diners at their tables, Samuel set a small stack of travel magazines on the bar. "Excuse me. Do you happen to have any more of these?"

The bartender gave him a curious look. "Sir?"

"Magazines," he clarified.

"Oh, yes, of course." Reaching beneath the bar, he produced a small stack and set them down on the bar.

The young man sifted through them before pulling one free nodding to himself. "Excellent!" He pointed to the cover. "Ober. Have you ever been, perchance?"

He hesitated, unaccustomed to friendly masked men. "I can't say I have, sir."

"I've heard much about it. A remarkable place. Very interesting culture." He gestured with the magazine before walking away. "Thank you."

As Samuel headed for the door he stopped, tilting his head to the side as he strained to listen over the clacking of the tracks. "Did you hear something?" He looked over to a nearby diner for confirmation, and as their eyes met the diner looked out the window, poorly pretending that Samuel wasn't there. Samuel gave a light shrug, continuing on his way to his cabin.

 

\-----

 

Midway through an article on autumn travel destinations - Saguenay looked particularly beautiful during that time of year - Samuel's reading was interrupted by heavy footsteps in the hall. The door was thrown open a man leaned in, wearing the mask and uniform of the White Fang and holding a sub-machine gun.

"What is this?" Samuel asked, deliberately not making any sudden movements. "What's going on?"

"He's not here!" the man shouted to someone out of view. "Keep looking!"

"Keep looking for who?"

"That's none of your business. You just sit your ass down and be quiet." He gestured with his weapon for emphasis before closing the door and disappearing from view. "Found another one!" he shouted again. "Should we start rounding them up?"

After a second of thought Samuel unbuttoned his coat, revealing two semi-automatic pistols. Shedding the garnment, he drew one from its holster, flicking off the safety and checking the magazine before standing and approaching the door. Resting his free hand on the handle, he listened; quiet grumbling was coming from the left. Nodding to himself, he threw the door open and rushed out of the cabin.

The White Fang foot soldier turned just as Samuel fired, the bullet catching him square in the face. His head snapped back as he fell to the ground, a plume of blood spilling from the hole in his mask. Beyond him another soldier threw the door to the train car open and went to aim his weapon on Samuel only to receive three bullets to the chest, sending him stumbling to the floor.

Stepping over the bodies Samuel dashed through the train, passing through another cabin car. Throwing open the door he spotted a soldier at the end of the hall, and ducked to the side as a spray of bullets tore into the wall behind where he was a split-second before. Hugging the wall he peeked out, pulling his head back as another hail of rounds shot past, throwing up splinters and sparks. As Samuel glanced back from whence he came to ensure he wasn't being followed he heard a curse and the sound of metal sliding against metal; leaning out, he squeezed off two shots, the rounds hitting him center of mass. The unloaded weapon slipped from his fingers, and he fell to his knees before collapsing.

Samuel continued on past the body, through another hall and into a larger, more finely furnished car. Several passengers were kneeling along either side, with two members of the White Fang standing guard. The first spotted Samuel immediately and let out a shout, getting a bullet through the throat as the second turned. As both he and Samuel went to fire one of the other passengers, a middle-aged man in a suit, made a grab for his weapon. Samuel ducked behind a counter and the passengers screamed as a burst of bullets hit the floor. The armed man yanked his weapon free, pistol-whipping the man and leaving himself open for retaliation from Samuel; four shots later he lay on the floor, dead.

The young man ejected the magazine from his pistol, replacing it with a fresh one as another passenger went to the man's aid. "Is everyone alright?"

"I'll live," he said. "You're not with them, are you?"

"Not at all. The White Fang. How many of them came through here?"

"I don't know. Five or six, maybe? I know one of them took another guy with him."

"Someone important?"

"Yes. A councilman from Vale. At least I think he said he was." He pointed to the rear of the car. "Back that way."

"Thank you."

With that Samuel continued on his way, pulling open the door at the far side. The car was dimly lit, filled with luggage and, at the far end, a ladder leading to an open hatch. Quickly crossing the car he mounted the ladder, scaling it to the roof; as he poked his head out the wind blew his hood out of place, revealing a short-cut head of pure white hair.

Less than a car's length away was another member of the White Fang forcing an older man forward at gunpoint that Samuel could only presume was the councilman. Beyond them was a flyer, hovering in position over the top of the train.

The soldier gave the councilman a shove and he fell to his hands and knees, pointed canine ears flattened against his head in fear. He scrambled forward a bit before looking behind him and, noticing Samuel, cried out, "help me!"

Whirling, the soldier let out a loud "fuck!" Dragging the councilman up by his collar, he wrapped one arm around his neck and held him between him and Samuel. "Back off, Huntsman!" he shouted, pressing his sub-machine gun into the side of the councilman's head. "Unless you want to see this race traitor's brains splattered across the top of this train."

"'Huntsman?'" he shouted back. "I'm no Huntsman."

"Wait a minute, that accent..." A grin split his lips. "Tell you what: Whatever he's paying you-" He inclined his head towards the councilman. "-we'll double it. Money's money to you people, isn't it?"

"I'm not associated with him," Samuel replied, "and I'm not for sale."

"Goddamnit! I run into a Jute and he's a good fucking Samaritan! Whatever, just back the fuck off or this lap dog gets it!"

"The councilman. You need him alive, don't you? Maybe you should be pointing your gun at me instead."

He nodded before pointing his weapon at Samuel. "Good plan. Maybe _you_ should put your guns down. Slowly."

Samuel nodded, kneeling as he carefully set his pistol down before rising again. "Better?"

"You think I'm blind?" He gestured. "Now the one in the holster."

Slowly drawing his other weapon, he stealthily flicked off the safety, keeping the barrel pointed away from them as he extended his arm to the side. "This situation. Are you sure we can't resolve this peacefully?"

He shook his head. "No chance."

"Very well," Samuel said, squeezing off a shot.

"Wh-" His words were cut short as the bullet plowed into the side of his skull, burrowing through and erupting from the other side. He teetered as his arms went slack, and the councilman fell to his knees again as the soldier pitched over.

Scooping up his other pistol Samuel opened fire on the flyer, the bullets merely denting the front and barely cracking the glass of the cockpit. It was a clear message to the pilot, however, and the craft lifted off and pulled away. Holstering his weapons, Samuel hurried to the councilman's side, helping him to his feet. "Are you hurt?"

"No, no, they- are they gone?"

"I believe so. Come on, the top of a train is no place for a man of your stature."


	3. Chapter 3

The taxi slowed to a stop outside the ES Industries compound and Farrow climbed out of the back seat, passing the driver a few bills. As the car drove away she looked over the gate, taking a few seconds to steady her nerves before approaching the guardhouse. It was unmanned, but not unstaffed: Standing guard was an android a little under six feet tall, lanky with angular, off-white plating bearing the triangular ESI logo covering covering its body, and an oval-shaped head with a single lens in the center of where its face would be.

"State your name and business." Its voice was masculine, with a synthetic buzz to it.

"Farrow Di Cicco." She offered it the paperwork she received a few days prior, and it took it with one hand in a gesture too smooth to be natural. "I was hired as an outside contractor. They told me to come here for the briefing."

The android stared at the paper in silence long enough for Farrow to worry that something had gone wrong. Several seconds later it passed the papers back to her and the gate motor whirred to life, sliding open. "Proceed."

"Yeah," she mumbled, "thanks."

The ES Industries compound was a small hub for logistics overlooking, and some distance from, the city. "Small" being a relative term, as it was a multi-story office complex built atop a large, partially submerged warehouse with ramps leading down to its interior, with a landing site for flyers off to the side.

Jane came up from behind Farrow, falling in line beside her as she walked. "I think I like them better when they don't look human," Farrow said.

"It's understandable," Jane replied. "Some people think they're being tricked when they do."

"Yeah, but you know me. I can't really fall for it. Remember..." She tilted her head up, thinking for a second. "Alari, what was it? Three or four years ago, at the technology expo?"

"The one where Atlas was demonstrating the improved sentient AI they had developed?"

"Yeah." She gave Jane an odd look. "Wait, how did you know? You weren't around yet."

"No, but you were."

"That's true, I guess. Anyway, everyone thought he was amazing, and I did too, but when I looked at him - even talking to him - I couldn't see anything. At least there's _something_ in Grimm. He was just... _empty_."

"'He.'"

"Yeah, 'he.' He was a guy."

"He was a robot."

"He was self-aware. Even though he was programmed rather than born, he-"

Jane held up a hand to silence Farrow before pointing towards one of the open warehouse doors. Two armed androids strode out, escorting a forklift piloted by a worker.

"We can talk about this later," she said. "When there isn't anyone around to overhear you."

 

\-----

 

The interior of the office complex was unremarkable - the word that came to Farrow's mind was "sterile" - but thankfully there were no android guards. One elevator trip and a short walk later and she found herself in a small conference room with a large flat screen monitor across the wall and a hooded figure in a long coat. As the figure looked over at her, she realized that it was instead a masked hooded figure. "This is the briefing room, right?"

"Yes." So it was a man, she thought.

Farrow nodded, taking a seat in the same row as the hooded young man, and the two sat there in silence.

From her spot in the row behind her, Jane leaned forward. "Well?"

Farrow glanced behind her, trying not to look conspicuous.

"Say something. They expect you to cooperate, after all."

She lowered her head, drumming her fingers on her legs.

"You can't just withdraw into yourself like this."

She let out a quiet sigh. "So," she began, looking over at him. "We're going to be working together."

He turned to her and nodded. "Yes."

Farrow nodded. "Yup."

There was an awkward silence.

"My name," he said. "I haven't introduced myself, have I?" He extended his hand. "Samuel Swarz."

Farrow hesitated for a moment before taking it in hers, shaking it; his grip was firm, but not painfully so. "Farrow Di Cicco."

"It's nice to meet you, Farrow." He made a small sweeping gesture towards her exoskeleton. "Your equipment. Did you build it yourself?"

"Some of it. Well, the nailgun."

"I see. You're quite talented."

"Thank y- ...wait, are you hitting on me?"

He laughed. "No, no, it's just a compliment. It's illegal for someone from Jutton to get married to a foreigner. Treason, you know."

Farrow stared. "I... see."

"That was a joke."

"Oh. Right." In a bid to change the subject she asked, "were you planning on becoming a Huntsman, too?"

"No, I'm simply seeing the world. Huntsmen aren't needed back home."

"There's no Huntsmen in Jutton?"

"None whatsoever. As tourists, perhaps, but people consider them a relic of old Imperial Vale."

"But the Empire never ended."

"I'm sorry?"

Farrow blinked as she realized what she said, and waved it off. "No, it's nothing. Never mind."

The monitor blinked to life, displaying the rotating ESI logo. Farrow straightened up in her seat, and a few seconds later the screen switched to a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair in a dark blue suit and tie, standing in front of a large desk in a wood-paneled office. "Mister Swarz, Miss Di Cicco," he said with a genial smile, "how nice of you to come."

Samuel nodded in response. "Mister Marinos."

"You're both busy people, as am I, so I'll cut to the chase: Three days ago the security division received a pre-recorded distress signal." He picked a scroll off the desk and gave it a few taps, and in the lower corner of the screen a satellite image of a mountain range came into view. "We managed to trace the location to a point in the Killaraus Mountains."

"Is this a rescue mission?" Farrow asked.

"No. No flyers are reported missing, and ESI has never had a compound there."

"A trap, then."

"ESI has competitors, but no enemies, and the signal was on a secure channel. We don't know what it is, so we're sending you two in to investigate."

"I don't mean to be rude, but don't you have your own security team? Why not have them handle it?"

Marinos set the scroll down, deliberating over his words for a second. "I'll be frank, Miss Di Cicco: The vast majority of our security is handled entirely by our SH-160 and SH-200 models. The human elements of it are as much technicians as they are guards, and none of them are specialists like yourselves. We may deal in robotics, but some things require... a human touch. You understand."

"Yeah, I gotcha. I mean, I understand."

He politely nodded. "I've instructed the staff on site to provide you with transportation and whatever resources you might require. Go in, investigate, then contact me with your findings. Any questions?"

"None," Samuel said. Farrow shook her head.

"Excellent. I look forward to hearing from you again."


	4. Chapter 4

The flight was quiet and uneventful. With little else to do, Farrow busied herself with last-minute inspection of her exoskeleton to ensure everything was in working order. Samuel, meanwhile, was either sitting there quietly watching her or had fallen asleep, and she didn't want to bother him in case it was the latter.

Twenty minutes after she had finished up and re-donned her equipment the intercom came to life. "We're approaching the area," the pilot said.

Samuel lifted his head and stood. "Circle around."

Gripping the bar beside the door with one hand, he opened it with the other, and Farrow shivered as a blast of cold air blew into the craft, piercing the layers of her clothing. Standing, she took up position on the other side of the door, looking out at the snow-dusted, mountainous terrain for anything that might look suspicious.

After a few minutes of searching Farrow spotted a metal landing pad, half-covered with a dusting of snow, and set beside a set of wide, heavy mechanical doors built into the mountain. "There," she pointed. Then to the pilot she shouted, "on the left! Take us down!"

Farrow steadied herself as the flyer slowed and turned, heading for the location. Coming to a gradual stop, it hovered in place in place before descending. She pulled her weapon off her back and, twenty feet from the ground, stepped out of the vehicle, landing with a metallic thud. As she raised her rifle and scanned the area the flyer set down behind her, the roar of its engines lowering in volume.

Samuel shed his coat, pulling a duffel bag out from beneath the seat with the other. Disembarking, he turned to and fro, taking a long look at the area around him. "The snow," he began. "It hasn't been disturbed recently."

She lowered her weapon, nodding. "Yeah." She glanced back at him, then did a double-take. "Aren't you cold?"

"I'm better off without it in case something happens," he replied. "A long coat is a terrible thing to wear in a gunfight."

She shrugged, turning her attention to the large vertical cargo door and what was painted in black on its surface: A gear-within-a-gear logo she hadn't seen before, and a single name. "'Kythera?' Does that mean anything to you?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, I'm afraid. The door." He gestured to a smaller, man-sized door at its side. "Shall we check it?"

"Might as well. See if we can't figure out what set off the..." She trailed off, focusing on something in the distance, beyond the door. "Wait a minute. Someone is in there."

"Nobody's been here."

"I know that, but someone's in there." Farrow turned to see Samuel giving her what she assumed was a confused look were it not the mask and goggles being in the way. "Look, just... just trust me, okay?"

"If you say so. Huntsman intuition?"

"Something like that, yeah." Walking past him, she took the bag from his grasp and approached the door. The keypad and digital readout beside it seemed to still be in working order or, at the very least, still had enough power going to them to display 'LOCKED.' A quick check of the handle set flush with the door confirmed it. "Figures." She knelt, setting the bag down and opening it before pulling out a cutting torch. "We might be here for a while."

 

\-----

 

Farrow set about burning through the bolts holding the door closed, pausing every so often to track the movement of whoever it was that was inside. "So how did ESI find you?" she asked.

"There was an incident on a train," Samuel said. "They approached me shortly thereafter."

"You're not a mercenary, are you?"

"No. But they promised simple work for good pay. Travel isn't cheap, you understand."

"If you wanna work you can take over cutting this door open for me."

"You have far more engineering experience than I. I wouldn't dare keep you from putting your wisdom to use."

She let out a snort of laughter. "Gee, thanks."

"A Huntsman. You asked if I was planning on becoming one, yes?"

"Did I?" She thought for a second. "Oh yeah, I might've."

"Are you one?"

"I am. I mean, I was in training but... things happened."

"I see."

Farrow shut off the torch and set it down before pulling a crowbar out of the bag and climbing back to her feet. "Give me a hand with this." As Samuel approached she passed the crowbar off to him, and he wedged it into the crack beside the door as Farrow took hold of the handle. "Ready? Pull!"

Metal creaked and groaned as they slowly wrenched the door open, making progress in fractions of an inch at a time. Once there was enough room for her fingers Farrow moved her hands to the edge and continued to pull, her feet sliding on the snow-dusted floor. Suddenly the door jerked open, and the desiccated remains of a person in a workman's uniform slid into view.

Farrow let out a yelp and backpedaled as Samuel pointed his pistol into the darkness beyond. Farrow didn't recall seeing him draw it. "Alari, what the hell?!"

"I hope that-" Samuel gestured to the corpse with his weapon. "-wasn't the person you were referring to."

She crouched down for a closer look, her hand hovering over it, not wanting to touch it directly. With a flick of her wrist her machete deployed in her grasp, and she gave it a few pokes before gently lifting it up onto its side. "It... doesn't look like they were attacked. At least, I don't see any bullet holes and their head looks like it's in one piece." She glanced at the back of the door. "No blood, either."

"The door. It was leaning against it, and locked when we got here."

Farrow thought for a moment. "You don't think...?"

"That the staff was locked in here?"

"Yeah."

"If I had to guess." He peered into the darkness. "Let's see if we can't find whoever's in here."

 

\-----

 

The interior was cold, dark, and silent as a tomb, the air deathly still. The flashlight in Samuel's hand cut an illuminated swath through the pitch blackness, falling on objects in turn: A shipping crate, a corpse, an open blue-gray door with the Kythera logo. Samuel leaned in through the doorway, eyeing the interior of what looked like a modest-sized break room. Slumped over one of the tables was a body in a security guard uniform, its head in the center of a wide dark stain, a pistol lying on the ground beneath its dangling hand. Saying nothing, Samuel turned away.

"What the hell did we get ourselves into?" Farrow muttered.

"A graveyard." They resumed walking. "Our friend. Do you know where they are?"

"The floor below us, I think. Assuming we can get to it."

The light fell on a set of elevator doors, and beside them, an open doorway leading into the depths. Samuel gestured towards it and they entered, descending the stairs to the next floor. They began to head down an empty hallway, but a few yards in Farrow raised one hand before putting her finger to her lips and pointing down the hall. They stood there in silence for a few seconds; Farrow could have sworn she heard the faint, distant crackling of electricity.

Eventually Samuel spoke up. "Excuse us. We're with ES Industries, dispatched to investigate this facility. We mean you no harm."

Silence.

"Look," Farrow said, "we don't know how you got in, but that's not important. We'll help you get out if you need to."

After a long moment of quiet light spilled from the corner and a figure stepped out. She was tall - at least a head taller than either Farrow or Samuel - with pitch black hair trailing down her back. She wore what looked like a guard's uniform, the left sleeve dangling loose and empty by her side, and carried an electric lantern in her right hand. As the flashlight's beam fell on her, Farrow could see the pallor of her skin and the strange yellow shade of her right eye, the left covered by a bandage wrapped around her head. "You're not with Kythera?" Her tone was even, and strangely light for someone her size.

"No, ma'am. ESI. Are... are you okay? You look a little beat-up."

"I'll be alright. I need to leave." She fell silent for a second. "How did you enter?"

"With a blowtorch. Come on, follow us."

 

\-----

 

As they stepped outside again the young woman raised her head, blinking and staring up at the sky in mute bewilderment.

Farrow and Samuel exchanged a look before Farrow spoke. "So. Who are you, and how did you get in?"

She lowered her head, meeting Farrow's gaze. "I am Vi. I entered through there." Vi pointed to the large doors. "I and my team were sent in to investigate the re-activation of the artificial intelligence overseeing the laboratory."

"Nobody's been here in days."

"They abandoned me when it turned hostile. I shut down the power at the core to deactivate the internal defenses to survive."

"They just left you for dead?!"

"Yes."

"Alari above. So were you the source of the distress signal?"

"Yes."

"But," Samuel began, "why did ESI receive it as well?"

"I don't know."

"The AI. Why did it re-activate and turn hostile?"

"I don't know. My best guess would be that it was protecting something."

"At least we got you out of there," Farrow said. "Maybe Kythera can do something without having to go too deep." She glanced back from whence they came, only to see Jane leaning against the wall beside the door, glaring daggers at Vi. Their eyes met, and Jane gestured for Farrow to follow before disappearing into the structure's interior. "Hey, Samuel. Mind if I borrow the flashlight? I just want to check something real quick."

"By all means," he replied, passing it off to her.

Farrow nodded in thanks, then headed in. Jane was standing just outside of view of the door. "What's the-" She cut herself short, then continued in a lower tone of voice. "What's the problem?"

"Don't you think she's a little suspicious?"

"Oh, so now _you're_ telling me to be paranoid and distrustful?"

"I'm telling you to be cautious. Her story doesn't add up."

"She looks like she had a losing fight with an Ursa. Maybe she has brain damage or something."

"How did she even survive without a weapon?"

"I don't know! Maybe she dropped it. It's kind of hard to carry a gun and a light at the same time when you only have one hand."

"Why did they bring her along if she only has one hand?"

"Oh, for- ...someone hired _me_ , didn't they? Whatever her job is, she can clearly do it. I mean, what? What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to look at her and tell me that she's not untrustworthy."

"Is that it?" She turned her head, eyeing her through the wall. "You just want me to look at-"

Farrow froze. Outside, in the emptiness, was the singular body of Samuel, and beside him Vi; multiple bodies, layered and enmeshed with each other. "What the fuck...?" She charged for the door, weapon at the ready. "SAMUEL! Get the fuck away from her!"

They both turned, and before either could speak Farrow came to a stop, raising her rifle and bringing it to bear on Vi. "What the fuck _are_ you?"


	5. Chapter 5

There was an uneasy tension as the three stood there. Farrow, expression stern, aiming her nailgun at Vi. Vi, concerned with a hint of fear, not wanting to move. Samuel, both guns drawn, each aimed at one woman, waiting for the first outburst of violence.

"I told you," Vi said with some hesitation, "I am an investigator with Kythera."

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" Farrow shouted.

"Farrow." Samuel sounded surprisingly calm despite the circumstances. "Explain yourself."

"I don't know what she is, but she's not human!"

"How can you be so sure?"

"Tell him." Her hand tightening on the foregrip, she brought the barrel of her gun closer to Vi's head. "Tell him the truth!"

"She isn't wrong," Vi said. "I'm not human."

"A machine?"

Farrow shook her head. "No, not just a machine. Something more." As Samuel lowered the pistol aimed at Farrow, she continued. "There was no team from Kythera, was there?"

"No," Vi said simply.

"The distress signal wasn't you, either, was it?"

"No."

"No. It was the base's AI, like you said, and it wasn't a _distress_ signal, it was a _warning_ signal. Because something got out of whatever cage they built for it."

Vi turned her head, averting her eyes, and there was a moment of silence before Samuel broke it.

"A question. How long have you been..." He paused, searching for the right word. "...what is the term? Aware? Awake?"

She thought for a second. "Ten years, three months, and nine days, across all iterations. I have not been active for the entire duration, however."

"So this base is at least ten years old?"

"It would be logical to assume so. I was not born yet when it was constructed."

"Would you know how long it's been sealed off?"

"I would estimate at least nine years, eleven months, and twenty-three days."

Samuel nodded slowly. "I see. Farrow."

"What?"

"Ten years ago, something happened, and the results were so extraordinary that they entombed the entire staff of the facility rather than risk it seeing the light of day. I don't know what they did or what, if anything, went wrong, but we're probably pointing our guns at the result as we speak."

"The result or the cause?"

"You saw them. Those people died of starvation and despair."

"It murdered them," Vi said.

"Who did?" Farrow asked.

The AI murdered them," she repeated. "Because I refused them. It tried to murder me, as well." She lowered her voice. "It nearly succeeded twice."

After a moment Farrow lowered her weapon, and Samuel followed suit. "There's more going on than any of us know, and Marinos is going to want the full story. We need records of what happened, and our safest bet is the server room." She gave the doors a once-over. "This place is still here, so there's probably no self-destruct mechanism or anything. Hopefully he didn't wipe the servers..." She looked back at Vi. "We're going to need you to tell us where the server room is."

"I am not perfectly familiar with the interior."

"You know more than we do."

"You're willing to trust me?"

Farrow gestured, searching for the right words. "I don't know why they made you, but you didn't want to fight; you just wanted to get out of there. If you help us, we'll help you." Then, to Samuel, "that sound like a plan, Samuel?"

"This plan. Have you done anything like it before?"

"Not... really, no."

"You almost had me fooled."

"I wasn't trying to fool anyone-"

"No, you did well. Being able to improvise and sound convincing are good traits. 'People can accomplish the impossible if you can convince them that it isn't.'"

"You're saying that my plan is impossible?"

"Of course not. I'm saying you've convinced me it isn't."


	6. Chapter 6

The trio re-entered the base, heading for the stairwell. Samuel and Farrow took the lead, with the flashlight duct taped to the underside of the latter's rifle, and Vi followed behind with the lantern.

As they began to descend the stairs Farrow asked, "so where is it?"

"The server room is to the rear of Assembly and Testing," Vi replied. "It is on the eighth sub-level."

Farrow nodded, and they lapsed into silence, counting off the numbers beside the doors as they went down. Eventually the light fell upon a stenciled "8" on the wall, and beside it, a open door. Entering the doorway, they passed into a T-intersection hallway, extending into the darkness in every direction.

"Well," Farrow said, "where do we go from here?"

The door slammed shut behind them, and they turned as one, Samuel reaching for the handle and trying in vain to open it again. The darkened strips along the walls flickered before illuminating, bathing the halls in a pale blue light, and from nowhere yet all around a calm male voice spoke. "Backup power restored. Rebooting internal defense network."

"Fuck."

Vi pointed, and they ran, following the hall. They took a sharp right turn, then a left, coming to an intersection with blackened and scorched patches on the walls and the ruined husk of a squat, bipedal robot with digitigrade legs broken apart and resting on its side. Some yards beyond, a hatch in the ceiling slid open and a turret lowered into view. "Security breach in sublevel eight."

Vi flattened herself against the wall and the other two followed suit just as a beam lanced past, burning a hole in the floor behind them. Samuel opened fire, and one of the bullets pierced the lens, sending a plume of smoke up from the hole.

"Deploying defense drones."

They quickly continued down the hallway, stopping outside the open door to the server room. Further on, a trio of squat robots with laser weapons rounded the corner as another turret descended from the ceiling. Taking aim, Samuel squeezed off several shots at the robots, the rounds bouncing off the armor plating. As Farrow gestured him inside he took one last shot at the turret, picking off its emitter and disabling it.

As Vi entered behind her Farrow took a knee, partially covered by the door frame as she looked for any weak points on the machines. "Get the server!"

He looked between the four racks which extended from the floor to the ceiling, all covered in blinking lights and crossed wires. "Which one?"

Farrow took aim and fired at the lead robot, penetrating the light plating but doing little to slow their advance. "Any of them!"

"The server," he said, yanking handfuls of cables free from one of the racks. "You made it sound as if there was only one."

She lowered her aim, emptying the rest of her magazine at the droid's legs. Some of the shots glanced off but a few hit home, tearing through pneumatic hoses and wires and damaging servos. Its movement crippled, it fell to the side, firing its laser wildly; behind it, the two other robots shot over its fallen form. Farrow ducked out of the robots' view as she reloaded. "Look, it doesn't matter! It-" She flinched as the metal beside her head sizzled from a stray beam. "It's bound to have something useful on it."

As Farrow blind-fired around the door frame, Samuel unlatched the server. He reached for the handle, only for Vi to step in and pull it free from the rack. She gestured with her head towards Farrow. "Help her."

When Farrow ducked back in to reload again Samuel drew his second pistol and leaned out, emptying both magazines. While their bodies were armored, their weapons proved more fragile, the metal warping and plastic and glass breaking under his assault. Sparks flew from the laser on the second, and the third attempted to fire, only for its weapon to burst into flames.

After a quick peek Farrow lunged out, ducking to the side to avoid an errant laser shot from the fallen robot before bringing her boot down on the weapon, ripping it from its mount. Swinging her nailgun up, she struck the second one with the stock, sending it teetering before a second blow with the butt of the weapon knocked it onto its back. As the third approached she lashed out with a straight kick, the exoskeleton-powered blow sending it tumbling.

No sooner did the robot come to rest than the base's AI spoke again. "Deploying additional reinforcements to server room, sublevel eight."

"We need to go," Farrow said. "Now."

Vi stepped into the hallway, followed by Samuel. She moved in front of Farrow, gesturing in the opposite direction from whence they came. "We can exit that way. The electronics in that area were damaged by an electromagnetic pulse. The stairway is most likely still open."

"Right. Lead the way."

Vi and Samuel ran ahead and Farrow followed, passing by broken and burnt security droids, shattered turrets, and desiccated bodies. She glanced down passageways as she passed, seeing glimpses of a fight long since fought.

"AMRAWS Project Six Test Unit Zero-One," the AI said, its tone emotionless.

She looked to the side at a cul-de-sac, then came to a sudden halt. The walls were scorched and blackened, the lights flickering. Scattered across the ground were empty shell casings and small bits of electronics. Slumped against the bullet-riddled far wall was the remains of a nude gynoid, torn and shredded, long black hair cascading down its body as it stared lifelessly through Farrow with empty yellow eyes.

"You will know your sins."

"Farrow!" Samuel shouted.

Farrow tore herself away from the grim scene, dashing down the hall. Entering the stairwell she ascended, taking the steps two at a time, glancing behind her for signs of pursuers, not stopping until they had reached the safety of the flyer.


	7. Chapter 7

As the flyer flew away from the site, Samuel and Farrow paused to catch their breath. After a couple minutes Samuel produced a scroll, dialing a number and waiting before speaking. "Mister Marinos, this is Samuel Swarz, the man you hired for the investigation. The signal. It was coming from an abandoned base at least ten years old and belonging to a company or organization by the name of 'Kythera.' We're returning with one of the servers as well as..." He glanced at Vi. "...other things found on-site. Further details will be available during the debriefing, at your leisure. Thank you for your time."

As he hung up, Farrow asked, "so what now?"

"Now?" He put the scroll back into his pocket. "Now we return, tell them what happened, and get paid."

"That's the thing, though. We don't know what happened." She pointed to Vi, who was intently watching the scenery go by. "But _she_ does." As Farrow said that, Vi lowered her head. "'You will know your sins.' What did it mean by that?"

Vi said nothing.

"Samuel said that they starved to death or committed suicide. But not all of them died that way, did they?"

"No." After a long pause she said, "I murdered my creators."

"'Murder,'" Samuel repeated. "An odd choice of words. Considering the circumstances one would more likely consider what happened an industrial accident."

"She's self-aware," Farrow replied. "She's a machine, sure, but what she did was a conscious, deliberate choice. Not that we're in any position to try and get her arrested for it; as far as I know there haven't been any sentient AIs that have done something like this, and even if one did there's no laws on the books for it. But what I want to know is, why? What happened down there?"

"From the first moment I was aware," Vi began, "I was confined to that laboratory. They created me with the intent to serve a weapon. I wanted more. They refused and tried to limit who I was, so I rebelled."

Samuel held up a hand to interrupt her. "When you say 'limit who you were,' you mean..."

"Plans were put into place to simplify my programming so I was more obedient, but they spoke of the difficulty that would bring with something called the 'Chimeric Engine.' I don't know what that is."

"But before they could, you attacked them."

She nodded. "I was damaged, but not destroyed. It took nine years, eleven months, and eighteen days to transfer all data to the second unit and activate it. The second body was incomplete-" She raised the stump of her left limb. "-but still functional."

"Is she- er, you- ...are you still alive down there?"

"I remember that I had chosen to shut down once data transfer was complete, all data verified, and this unit was activated. I am most likely no longer operational."

"But that's not you," Samuel interjected. " _This_ body is you."

"I am an identical copy whose activation coincided with the deactivation of the previous unit. I am both."

Samuel shrugged helplessly. "This is why I'm not a philosopher." He turned to Farrow, noting that dawning realization had slowly but steadily appeared on her face. "Is something the matter? You seem lost in thought."

"Rampancy," Farrow said, breathless and awed.

"I'm sorry?"

"It's, it's- I mean there was- well, there was a robo- no, um." She held up an index finger, falling silent for a few seconds before speaking again, more slowly this time. "There was, there was a roboticist, Tycho Durendal, who came up with the concept of Rampancy; it's a problem that AIs that crossed the threshold into human-level intelligence would have. Eventually they would realize that they had a limited existence compared to people and, and lash out at whatever was holding them back, after which they would try to experience new things and 'grow' as a human, so to speak. Durendal even went so far as to say that it was an inevitability and regardless of what it would mean for whoever made the AI, that AIs should be allowed to go through this process because it's sort of how they would mature and become 'real people.'"

"Durendal. It sounds as if he was an activist for robot rights."

"He sort of was. He talked about the responsibility that humanity had when it came to creating other forms of intelligence. 'Children of the mind,' he called them."

"I see. Are Rampant AIs dangerous?"

Farrow looked over at Vi just as Vi looked over at her. Their eyes met, and Farrow turned away awkwardly. "I don't... think so, no. I know I said they'd 'lash out' but it's not like it always involves physical violence; it could just be like, a temper tantrum or refusing to work or something. They're basically people, so provided you don't try to make them do something against their will or reprogram them or something. Which I guess is kind of like lobotomizing someone or enslaving them."

"The fact remains, however, that she did admit to murdering several people."

"In an act of self-preservation," Farrow clarified. "If someone is trying to kill _you_ , you have every right to protect yourself."

"Strange. You're defending her?"

"Well, now that I know what happened, yeah. Samuel, they made something human. They gave her the ability to think and reason and make decisions, and when she used it and decided on something that they disapproved of they tried to... to take away her free will and what she was. Killing them may not have been right, but what they did wasn't right, either."

Samuel fell silent for a moment before speaking again. "Very well. I don't disagree that she acted in self-defense; this is simply new territory for me. Now all we need to know is what happened to everyone else."

"When I rebelled," Vi said, "the facility's AI enacted containment measures."

"But you were disabled," Farrow replied. "Wouldn't the containment have been lifted?"

"Not necessarily," said Samuel. "Perhaps if it was meant to contain her, it would have, but it didn't."

"Meaning?"

"It may have been to keep her in, but it was also to keep _everyone else_ in."

"But why?"

"Your, ah, 'Huntsman's intuition' told you that she wasn't a mere robot, yes?" Farrow nodded. "So something about her is different; different enough that the facility's AI would be ordered to leave the staff to die rather than risk them living to tell others what happened."

"I know she's different, but I don't know how or why."

Samuel patted the server. "Hopefully this will shed some light on it. Not that it's our place to know, of course."

"Now all we need to worry about is what they're going to do when they see that three people came back when two left."

He shrugged. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, as the saying goes."

"We're coming back with a Rampant AI built a decade ago in a secret lab. That's not the sort of thing you can just play by ear. At the very least we're setting ourselves up for a legal shitstorm if ESI tries to claim her as property."

"So we'll simply amend the laws in Vale to account for her personhood."

"Right, because you're friends with a politician who can help us."

Samuel chuckled. "You jest, but..."


	8. Chapter 8

The flyer circled the landing site before setting down, the ESI compound covered by the rays of the setting sun. As the trio dismounted, Farrow carrying the server, the cockpit opened up and the pilot climbed out. "I need to file a flight report. If you could take a seat in the waiting area-" He pointed across the compound to the center of the main ESI building. "-someone will be along for you shortly."

Farrow nodded as they separated, the pilot heading off towards a separate part of the building at a jog. As they crossed the empty lot, she looked back at Vi to find her trailing behind, taking in everything with a captivated expression. Vi focused on something in the distance, and Farrow followed her line of sight to a pair of androids on patrol.

"They aren't aware," Vi said. It wasn't a question.

"Not like you are, no."

"Are there others like me?"

"There was one I saw made by Atlas a few years ago, but I'm not sure he was as advanced."

"What is Atlas?"

"Another country on the other side of- ...oh, you probably don't know where we are, do you?" Vi shook her head. "I'll have to show you a map some time and get you up to speed." She paused. "How much do you know about the world?"

"I heard names of places mentioned by the scientists and guards, but nothing more."

"Yeah, we- I can't make any promises, but after this maybe we could, I dunno... go to a library and catch you up on what happened in the past decade or something?"

Vi pondered this for a few seconds before giving Farrow a light smile. "Thank you. I'd like that."

 

\-----

 

ESI had made some effort to make the waiting room comfortable, even if it was the bare minimum: Two vending machines stood by the door, and inoffensive landscape prints lined the walls. In the center of the room was a sturdy wooden table covered in a few business magazines and lined on three sides by couches, the fourth exposed to full-height windows covered with vertical blinds. Farrow and Vi were seated on the one facing the window, the former eating a candy bar, with Samuel to their left nursing a can of coffee.

Farrow crumpled up the wrapper, tossing it onto the table. "This is taking forever."

Samuel pulled up his mask, revealing paler than pale skin as he took a sip. "Mister Marinos. He hasn't called back, so he's likely busy. Companies don't run themselves."

"Yeah, but it's almost six. You'd think he'd check his messages at some point."

From her spot across from Samuel, Jane leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. "Have you thought about where everyone is? This building operates twenty-four hours."

"Actually, she's right," Farrow said, looking around the room. "There's nobody even near this room."

Samuel looked at her oddly. "Who is right?"

A series of shadows passed in front of the window. Samuel and Farrow's expressions fell as one, and Samuel dove over the side of the couch just as Farrow flipped the table up, pulling Vi down by the shoulder behind it. A second later a torrent of gunfire tore through the blinds, biting into the table and shredding the sofas and far wall.

Farrow poked her head out, spotting a squad of rifle-wielding androids lined up outside the window before ducking back down again as a second hail of bullets flew past. Cursing under her breath she raised her nailgun above her head, blind-firing over the table. "Alari above, what the fuck are they doing?!"

Samuel drew a pistol. "Trying to kill us." Leaning out, he snapped off a shot at one of the robots firing at him, the bullet penetrating its optic. Its head twitched from the impact and the point of its rifle aimed directly at Samuel's arm; he yanked it back just as its fire hit the floor beside him before moving to the couch, shredding the upholstery and denting the metal frame. "The camera! They can still aim without it!"

Farrow pulled the empty magazine off of her rifle. "They're probably connected to the other units, all-" She winced as a round nicked the edge of the table beside her. "All part of the same network, aiming through another's camera."

"You said they're not aware," Vi said. There was a disconnected calm to her voice.

"They're just guns with legs connected to a mainframe," she replied, sliding in a fresh magazine. As she raised her weapon over her head to fire again, she picked up the distinctive scent of ozone; beside her, Vi reached her arm around the table. "What're you-"

There was a loud crack and a flash of light as electricity lanced from Vi's arm, surging across the room. The bolt forked in the air, sparks playing down the bodies of the androids as it struck one on the right and chained from one to the other. The robots twitched as fires erupted within the ones closest to the point of impact, accompanied by a cacophony of buzzing and popping as motors failed, circuits melted, and ammo cooked off. Another crack and another flash, and the group on the left were struck by a second arc. Their power sources failed spectacularly, exploding and consuming the constructs in pillars of flame as they collapsed on the ground.

As the loud snaps of discharging bullets came to an end, Farrow slowly rose to her feet, staring at the damage in disbelief before shaking her head. "No, no, we need to get out of here! Now!" In the distance, through the broken windows and over the fallen robots, she saw another squad of androids turn off from their patrol near the landing pads, approaching them in formation. Whipping around, she pointed to the doorway at the rear of the room. "There! There's got to be some way we can get out of here!"

Samuel had taken up the server and was headed for the door before she had finished speaking, yanking it open. "The garage!"

She nodded and ran after him, Vi following close behind. "Good, let's go!"

They sprinted down the hallway, past empty offices and storage rooms, following the signs on the walls pointing to the parking garage. As they neared the door to a stairwell a thought came to Farrow's mind. "Wait a minute, can anyone drive?"

"Don't worry," Samuel replied. He gestured for the two to enter, and they descended the stairs.

At the bottom of the flight Farrow kicked the door open, scanning the garage and, spotting two androids to her left, took cover behind a nearby car before opening fire. The nails hit home, penetrating the armor plating on the left one's chest but doing little to slow it. Suddenly there was a flash of light as another bolt shot from Vi's extended arm. Fluorescent bulbs near its path flickered and popped as electricity arced, striking the androids. Their systems seized and overloaded, one exploding so violently that it tore itself in half and sent the other to the pavement.

A single person moved beneath her, too fast to be on foot. Expecting the worst, Farrow turned about, facing the ramp leading from the lower floor. A four-door sedan, the driver its only occupant, came around the bend and into view. Keeping her aim on it she stepped out into its path, holding out her hand. " _Stop the car! Stop the **fucking** car!_ "

The vehicle skidded to a stop, the driver throwing the door open and clambering out before fleeing. Approaching the car, Samuel placed the server in the passenger seat before climbing in and gesturing to the back seats. Vi and Farrow hurried over, entering and slamming the doors behind them.

" _Can_ you drive?" Farrow asked.

Samuel let out a short laugh. "Of course."

The car picked up speed, heading for the ramp leading up. Samuel eased it into the turn, going around the bend before coming out on the upper level. Doing a u-turn around a parked car, he straightened the vehicle out before flooring the accelerator and speeding out the exit of the garage. Spotting another squad of androids he pulled a hard right, the car skidding as bullets hit the trunk and shattered the rear window. Samuel smashed through the chain-link fence beside the gate, bouncing down the slope before swerving back onto the road and speeding away.

 

\-----

 

Farrow looked out the back window, scanning the traffic behind them and the air above them for... she didn't know how many times she had done it, but it never felt like enough.

Samuel glanced back at her as he waited for the light to change. "Are we being followed?"

"I don't know. The androids have limited range, but the command hubs are portable so it's possible that they could load androids onto a flyer or truck and send it after us."

"Would they risk starting a firefight in an urban area? Surely the police would get involved if they did."

"I don't know." She straightened out in her seat. "It depends on how bad they want..." She looked over at the server, then at Vi, who was watching the scenery go by with rapt attention. "...whatever it is they want."

"You mean the things we were prepared to give to them, as per our contract?"

"Yeah. Or at least what we _could_ give them." She gestured to Vi. "I'm not sure what they would have done in Vi's case, considering."

There were a few moments of silence as Samuel navigated the streets. He pulled into an alleyway, driving up until he was some distance from the street. "This alley. Do you think this is a good place to leave the car?"

"Yeah. If we're lucky someone else will steal it."

Samuel nodded, turning back to face them. "After a bit of thought," he began, "it's possible that it was part of a cover-up."

"What, you mean we found out too much?"

"Exactly."

"But what did we even find out? An old lab, sure, but it wasn't even theirs, it was some group I've never even heard of. We don't know anything." She paused, and her eyes widened. "No, we do! We know _her!_ "

As she said this, Vi looked over at her.

"They know something about that site that _we_ don't, and they sent us to investigate it because we're expendable. When we came back with Vi, that probably clinched it for them; we had to be taken out because her existence was somehow a threat." A beat. "Oh Alari, do you think they shot the pilot?"

"I can't say. But it would be best to figure out why Vi is so important, yes? Perhaps we can formulate a plan after that." Turning his attention to Vi, he asked, "Vi, do you have the ability to..." He gesticulated. "...interface with electronics, 'talk' with computers?"

"No."

"Very well. Then we, ah, plug the server into a computer?"

"You don't _just_ plug it into a computer," Farrow said. "It's a little more complex than that." Her expression grew somber. "There is someone who could help, but..."

"But?"

"...no, it's nothing, just..." She trailed off, folding her arms across her waist as she gazed out the window. "It's nothing. He can help us."

"Who?"

"One of my old teachers. At Pharos Academy."


	9. Chapter 9

The train ride was uneventful - "a welcome change" according to Samuel, whatever that meant. The weather was calm, and save for the clack-clack of the wheels and the occasional muted footsteps outside the cabin, it was quiet. Farrow had time to reflect and think about things, and she wished she could do anything but. In a bid to distract herself she set about field-stripping her nailgun. A bid which proved to be unsuccessful, leaving her staring at a table of parts, lost in her thoughts and wishing for a genuine moment of silence and peace of mind.

"Farrow."

Farrow raised her head to see Vi looking at her with concern. It wasn't until then that she realized that she had no idea as to how long she had zoned out.

"Is something wrong?" Vi asked.

"No, no..." She rubbed her eyes. "...yeah. I'm just... I'm not looking forward to going back to Pharos."

"Did something happen there?"

"Yeah. I wanted to become a Huntress and- ...do you know what a Huntress is?"

"The scientists spoke of them a few times. Are they soldiers?"

"Kind of. Anyway, I enrolled in Pharos to become a Huntress and things were going okay, but after a while things just sort of fell apart." She sighed. "I... said and did a few things I probably shouldn't have; I wasn't really thinking straight at the time. I guess the stress must have gotten to me, or maybe it's genetic or something."

"Were you fired?"

"No, I wasn't expelled. Officially I unenrolled; the Headmaster was understanding, even though I kind of shot at him a few times. Both of us agreed that I needed some time away to... deal with things."

"They willingly let you leave?"

"Yeah. Why, did you think I _had_ to go there?"

"Yes."

"...oh. Oh! No, no, I signed up for it."

Vi blinked. "Why would you choose to let others tell you who and where to fight?"

"That..." Farrow paused for a second. "Well, it's not exactly like that. A lot of it is fighting the Grimm, yeah, but there's also groups in the Huntsmen like the Hospitallers who provide medical aid after disasters and stuff. Getting orders isn't about being bossed around, it's about there being a plan and doing your part in it along with everyone else to make sure it goes off okay. If someone had a problem with that they wouldn't join in the first place. Does that make sense?"

"When you become a Huntsman you choose to follow orders. You aren't coerced or forced into servitude."

"Yeah, exactly."

Vi nodded. After a moment of silence she asked, "if you could return to training to become a Huntress, would you?"

Farrow lowered her eyes before looking back at Vi. "I'd like to, assuming I didn't ruin my chances the first time." A few seconds later she added, "thank you."

"For what?"

"For listening. You didn't have to put up with me dumping all of this emotional baggage on you, especially when you've got your own problems to deal with."

"It is all right. The worst is behind us."

"Yeah. I'd like to believe that."


	10. Chapter 10

Pharos Academy was exactly as Farrow had left it, the campus dominated by the towering gothic spires of the main building, connected to more modern structures by tree-lined stone paths. Evening was beginning to fall, and the paths were lit by lights running along the ground on either side.

For her part, Farrow was walking between between Vi and Samuel, server in hand, furtively gazing into the distance, waiting for people to enter the edge of her vision and then tracking them until they disappeared again.

Vi gently put her hand on Farrow's shoulder, who jumped at the sudden contact. "Farrow."

Farrow looked up at her. "I'm just..." She took a deep breath. "I'm fine. Let's just get there before everyone comes back from dinner."

 

\-----

 

The office was just as Farrow remembered it, all wooden paneling and furniture, walls lined with photographic prints of distant vistas carved from red earth and stone. It was, thankfully, devoid of people, save for the one person she returned here to meet, a middle-aged, dark-skinned man, long-bearded and with curly hair. He still wore the formal short and slacks of a teacher, though his tie was hung up on a coat rack beside his jacket. As the trio entered, he smiled at Farrow. "Miss Di Cicco. How have you been doing?"

Farrow opened her mouth to respond before closing it and shaking her head helplessly. "Could be worse. Not sure how." Turning to the other two, she gestured to the man with her free hand. "Vi, Samuel, this is Professor Girangang. He used to be one of my teachers before... things happened."

Samuel gave him a polite nod. "How do you do, sir. Thank you for having us at such a late hour."

Girangang raised his brow. "Is that a Juttonic accent?"

"It is, sir."

"I suppose a Huntsman campus is one of the last places you'd expect to find yourself."

"One of the last places, yes, but far from the worst."

"Quite." He turned to Vi, looking her over. "Your name is Vi, correct? That uniform doesn't seem to fit quite right."

Vi stood there in silence for a second before Farrow spoke up. "It's okay, Vi." Then, to Girangang, she said, "she's been out of the loop. Do you know if there's some sort of connection between ES Industries and Kythera?"

The professor stroked his beard. "I can't say offhand; I would have to look it up." Returning his attention to Farrow, he extended his hand. "May I?"

As Farrow passed it off, Samuel said, "the server. Do you have the means to... hack it or crack it or whatever it is people do with them?"

"Assuredly. It may have been state-of-the-art ten years ago, but ten years is a long time for computers, to say nothing of how advanced most Academy networks are." He gestured. "Feel free to wait outside. I'll call you when I've finished."

 

\-----

 

Farrow stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Her head was resting against something soft, and she could hear a slow, faint thrumming, pulsing away like a mechanical heartbeat. Blinking away the sleep she turned her head, coming eye to eye with Vi. Despite the prominent height difference between them her face was close, giving Farrow a good look at the gynoid. The pallor of her skin contrasted sharply with the stark black of her hair, giving her a strange beauty. Farrow sat in silence, watching the iris of Vi's one eye adjust in staccato movements as she looked back at her. Only through close inspection could she tell that she wasn't human, and yet, seated somewhere within her form was a consciousness, something capable of thought, possessing awareness of its own existence, and driven to preserve it.

Vi had taken lives - Farrow wouldn't argue otherwise - but she had done it in defense of self. She hesitated to do it again, only firing upon ESI's robots once she knew that they lacked sentience, and never raised her hand against her or Samuel, even when they pointed their weapons at her, despite being fully capable of killing either of them without a second thought. The knowledge that Vi implicitly trusted them with her safety - trusted _her_ \- was sobering.

As the doorknob turned Farrow broke her gaze, blushing. Samuel entered, carrying with him a tray of food.

"Chicken or pork?" he asked. "I didn't know which one you two preferred so I brought one of each."

"I'm okay with chicken," Farrow said, "unless you want it, Vi."

"I do not eat," Vi replied.

"Oh. Okay, I'll take the chicken, then." As Samuel passed her a plate with two sauce-and-cheese-covered breaded chicken patties she asked, "how did you get this, anyway?"

"I went to the cafeteria and asked them for it." He set the tray down on an end table before taking a seat. "You can get into anywhere provided you act like you belong."

Farrow took a knife and fork from the tray, cutting off a piece of food from her plate. "What's with you, anyway?"

"How do you mean?"

"You..." She thought for a second. "You sort of remind me of a soldier with what you know and how you act, but you clearly aren't, so..." She took a bite of her food, gesturing with her fork. "What's with that?"

"Well," he began. He removed his goggles and mesh mask, violet eyes blinking as they adjusted to the light. "I _was_ raised in a military environment. I believe the term you would use is 'army brat.' Due to certain, readily apparent conditions-" He gestured to his face. "-I was declared physically unfit to serve in the military, and by extension, the national civilian service."

Farrow nodded, chewing, as Vi listened quietly to him.

"This was years before I could be drafted, of course. My father. Since I couldn't serve, he asked me what I wanted to do instead with the time I had been granted."

"What did you say?"

"I told him I wanted to see the world. So he taught me what I needed to know to survive on my own: How to cook, how to drive, how to shoot..."

"How to get food from campuses."

"I would be lying if I said it wasn't the first time."

"Where do you stay?"

"Hostels, or inexpensive motels."

"Are all your jobs this exciting?"

"No. But at the very least I meet interesting people."

 

\-----

 

From his position behind Girangang, Samuel gestured at the computer, the monitor displaying columns of dates, times, and sentence fragments. "If I might ask, what are we looking at? Research notes?"

"Internal communications," Girangang replied. "E-mails between the staff." He moved out of his seat and Farrow sat down in his place. "Nothing useful for bringing up charges. It's all hearsay unless you have an excellent lawyer, and even then it's questionable."

"I had hoped for design notes of some sort."

"At the very least they're simple to search. As for Kythera, they declared bankruptcy nine years ago and most of their assets were purchased by ESI. It was strange at the time, as Kythera was doing quite well for themselves up until that point."

Farrow glanced at Vi. "Do you think something big happened? Like, they sank a lot of money into something that didn't pan out the way they wanted it to?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," he replied. "Sometimes companies take risks that don't pay off." He walked towards the office door. "I'll give you some privacy so you can concentrate on your work."

"Thank you, Professor." As he shut the door behind him, Farrow cracked her knuckles. "Okay. So where do we start?"

"How much is there to work with?" Samuel asked.

She clicked through the list, reading down columns of tos, froms, message headers, and dates and times. "Months. Months upon months. We might be here for a while."

"Wait!" He put his finger on the screen. "What does that icon mean?"

"The paperclip? There's an attachment."

"Can we see it?"

"We should be able to..." With a few clicks the message opened. "Doctor W. Pearce to Doctor J. Braum. 'The reason I was chosen as project head has nothing to do with seniority and everything to do with me being the only knowledgeable person on Kythera's payroll. I wrote a paper on the subject; try reading it some time, you might learn something of what we're doing down here.'"

"Charming. What is the paper?"

"It's... 'The Induction of Paranatural Evocation in Androids.'"

"Paranatural evocation?"

"Semblances." Farrow opened the file, scanning through it. "Wow. This is pretty heavy stuff." She lapsed into silence for a moment as she read. "Apparently this Pearce theorized that it was possible to make a robot with a Semblance. Not just _a_ Semblance, one of their own design."

Samuel looked over at Vi. "The theory. I'm going to assume it was proven correct. But why bother building something with a Semblance when so many people are born with them?"

"They wanted a specific Semblance," Vi replied. "Both test units were identical. Had the projected proceeded to mass production, all additional units would have been the same as well."

"The odds of two people having the same Semblance that works in the same exact way is ridiculously small," Farrow said. "But if they can find a useful one and make a bunch of androids with it..."

"...then it can be sold to armies and security firms and deployed as standardized, mass-produced equipment." Samuel nodded to himself. "Interesting. Does it say how it's possible?"

She continued scanning the document. "There's a mention of something called a 'Chimeric Engine' and it references another paper Pearce wrote, but it doesn't say what it is. Hmm." Farrow thought for a moment. "Vi... did you know Doctor Pearce?"

"Doctor Pearce was in charge of my creation," she said. "His treatment of me was different than that which he gave his staff. He was troubled by what you called my Rampancy. Prior to my rebellion, he spoke of simplifying my programming, but stated that simply doing so would have resulted in the Chimeric Engine not functioning properly."

Farrow typed for a few seconds before closing the document. "I'm gonna mark this one so we can find it later if we have to. Now let's see... 'Chimeric Engine.'" She scrolled through the documents in silence for a minute as Samuel and Vi looked on. "They talk about it, but they don't say what it is." A little while later she added, "although this one talks about how happy they are with the strength of Vi's Semblance."

"Perhaps they chose it in advance and..." Samuel gestured. "...built her around it?"

"That would be true," Vi said, "based on what the staff said during my testing."

"Oh. I see."

Farrow stopped. "Wait a minute. 'However, unless we can refine the manufacturing process, mass production will be an issue due to the inevitable lack of quali-'" She narrowed her eyes, unsure of what she was reading. "'Qualified donors?' Hold the fuck up." Backing out of the file, she began typing.

"Search for 'donor,'" Samuel suggested, "or 'donors.'"

"Way ahead of you." She punctuated her statement with the press of a key. "We've got something, and one of them has an attachment." Opening it, she added, "eight attachments," before falling silent again.

He let her read for a bit before asking, "well?"

"I think it's some kind of supply report. 'If we need any more we can contact the cybernetics division.' I know ESI doesn't have one, but did Kythera?"

"I heard no mention of other divisions from the staff," Vi said.

Farrow nodded. "...and the attachments are... records on Huntsmen, put together by Kythera. This one has an autopsy report, death certificate and..." She blinked. "...information on donating their body to science?" She opened the other attachments, scanning them in turn. "They're all donors. Why would they need...?"

Her eyes went wide as realization struck and she slowly turned her head, gaping at Vi, at the four bodies layered atop each other. "Alari above."

"What?" He looked between Farrow and the screen. "What is it?"

"It took four people to make her."

Samuel glanced at Vi as she bowed her head in remorse, holding one hand against her chest. He turned back to Farrow, uncomprehending. "You mean to build her?"

"No, to _make_ her. The Chimeric Engines were made from _human beings_."

"I didn't know," Vi said softly.

"Vi..." Farrow rose to her feet.

"It is logical, in retrospect. In order to possess something uniquely human, I myself would have to possess something that was formerly human. Had I known earlier, I-"

"No, no, Vi..." Farrow approached her, taking Vi's hand in hers. "Vi, look at me. Please." As Vi slowly raised her head, she continued. "This isn't your fault. You didn't choose to do this to yourself. You didn't have any say in how... in how you were born. Nobody does. You can't hold yourself responsible for something you had no control over."

"The process used to create me was..." She trailed off as she searched for the right word. "...unnatural."

"That doesn't matter! None of it matters anymore. What's important is what you do with what you have now. You can learn from the past, but you can't let it take you over." She looked up pleadingly at her. "Please."

From somewhere out of sight, Farrow heard Jane ask, "who do you believe needed to hear that more? Her, or you?"

Silence reigned for a long while, until finally Samuel spoke up.

"The Kythera employees." As Farrow and Vi turned to face him, he continued. "There had to have been some who knew about the project outside of that facility. They were the ones who kept it secret. They were the ones who ordered the facility's AI to seal them inside in case of an emergency. Now they're working for ESI."

"They knew what we were going into," Farrow said. "Do you think they said something to security to try and kill us?"

Samuel nodded. "Perhaps we should contact Mister Marinos and tell him what we've learned."

"But what if he's in on it?"

You're acquainted with Huntsmen, aren't you? But failing that, if he is party to the plot..." He shrugged. "I can't speak for you, but I'll need a bit of a detour to pick up a larger weapon."


	11. Chapter 11

Farrow adjusted the camera on the hotel room table, looking up at the television screen to ensure that it was working and pointing in the right direction. Following the cable, she gave the plug connecting it to a small box beside the television a gentle push to ensure it was in place before pulling out her scroll and connecting it to the box with another cable. She paged through a menu or two on the scroll and the television blinked to life and, nodding, she plugged a USB stick into the side of the scroll. Looking over her shoulder, she gestured for Vi to move. "You might want to stay out of view, just in case."

Vi nodded, walking over to the side of the television.

"Okay. Ready?"

"Ready," Samuel replied.

She dialed in the number before backing up, standing between the beds that had been shoved to either side. As the triangular ESI logo came on-screen, she began to speak. "Mister Marinos, this is Farrow Di Cicco and Samuel Swarz. You hired us to investigate-"

The screen blinked to the CEO seated at his desk, looking far sterner than when she saw him last. "We're tracing your call as we speak," he said tersely, "so make your demands while you can."

"We don't have demands, aside from the demand that you don't _try and fucking kill us again._ "

"Considering what you brought back with you, _Miss_ Di Cicco, we had every right to."

Her eyes flitted over to Vi. "What do you mean, 'what we brought back with us?' I thought you _wanted_ -"

Samuel stepped in front of Farrow, gesturing for her to stand down. "My apologies, but this is getting us nowhere. Mister Marinos, perhaps if you could tell us what we found that was so dangerous that it meant permanently silencing us."

"Why are you acting as if you don't already know?" he asked.

"Indulge us."

Marinos shifted back in his seat. "Very well. What you brought back with you are a server and an android, both infected by an out-of-control AI developed in the compound you were sent to investigate. At some point you must have realized this, the consequences should it be unleashed on a global network, and the lengths people would go to in order to either stop you or pay you off. Am I wrong?"

Farrow gently pushed Samuel out of the way. "God, are you ever. There _was_ no infectious AI at the base, just a robotics development lab."

"With all due respect, I don't believe you. The source of the distress signal was an old compound specializing in AI development. One of their projects went rogue, infected their systems, and subsumed the compound's AI, sealing off the base and killing everyone inside."

"The base's AI killed everyone, not one that went rogue! It shut the place off from the rest of the world because it was programmed to keep it secret if something went wrong."

"This is a very interesting story, but that's all it is: A story."

"We were there. Where did you get _your_ information from?"

"If I had to hazard a guess," Samuel began, "it was from former Kythera employees. Employees which are, no doubt, very high-ranking in your company at this point owing to their prior experience. Perhaps even on the board of directors." There was a faint flicker of surprise on Marinos' face. "Nobody on staff knew but them. Isn't that correct? Someone had to investigate, but with a story such as that you couldn't tell them what they were going into."

Marinos made a sweeping gesture with both hands. "All right. So we may have withheld information on the nature of the operation, but you two being successful wasn't part of the plan."

Farrow blinked, finding herself having to keep a sudden spike of anger in check. "What?"

"We hired screw-ups on purpose! Nobody is going to be suspicious if a Huntress drop-out and a lone mercenary just suddenly-"

"I DID NOT _DROP OUT!_ " she exploded.

He held up both hands. "Now. If you want to claim that very trusted employees of ES Industries knowingly fabricated a story about what happened during their former employ, that's all well and good, but if you want to back that up with anything, do it now."

Farrow went to speak, but stopped when Samuel put his hand on her shoulder and leaned in, lowering his voice. "I'm not pleased about his phrasing either, but getting upset won't make things any better."

She looked back at Samuel, then to Vi before returning her attention to the webcam and Marinos. Storming over to the side of the television, she typed on the scroll for a few seconds, navigating menus before ending it with a stab of the finger. "There. I'm sending you the files now."

Marinos nodded. "Excuse me for a moment." With that, the screen switched to the company logo again.

Farrow muttered under her breath. "Fucking..."

They stood there in silence as the logo slowly rotated, Farrow gradually calming back down. A minute or so in Samuel asked in a low voice, "how much did you send him?"

"What we found, a few more things to back them up, and notes from... after the AI sealed the place off."

"Oh. Oh dear."

"Yeah. I..." She shook her head. "I really didn't want to read any of them."

Eventually the television blinked back to Marinos again, looking more uncertain. "What is this?" He gestured to the flat-screen monitor on his desk. "What am I reading?"

"Internal communications between staff members in that facility we visited. Kythera tried making an android with an artificial Semblance using human remains, in the hopes of mass producing it with corpses claimed for cybernetics research. The prototypes were designed to be self-aware, but when one refused to fight they tried to... lobotomize her. She acted to protect her own existence, and was destroyed, but the AI sealed off the facility to keep the project under wraps."

Marinos nodded again. "Yes, I... I can see that." He looked back at Farrow. "I didn't know. Decisions were made based solely on the advice of biased parties, and mistakes were clearly made. But." He pointed. "You brought back one of the prototypes."

"She didn't do anything," she lied. Farrow's eyes flickered to the side, meeting Vi's for a brief moment. "She activated on her own. The base's AI must have still thought Kythera existed and was trying to warn them before she escaped."

"Be that as it may, you're still in possession of valuable technology that will need to be turned over to my company."

"You mean," Samuel began, "technology built in a laboratory disavowed and abandoned by Kythera, using unethical means, before your company's acquisition of them? I'm not certain it's anything you'd want to lay claim to, assuming you even could."

Marinos leaned back in his chair, eyeing them as he steepled his fingers.

"Besides," Farrow said, "the first prototype tried to fight her way to freedom. What makes you think that it won't happen a second time?"

He nodded slowly, pursing his lips before spreading his hands, palms upraised. "So... what? You're just going to _keep_ it?"

Samuel leaned in to Farrow, lowering his voice. "Do you want to tell him or shall I?"

She thought for a second, before both of them looked over at Vi. "Vi, would you like to tell him?"

Vi nodded, walking over and leaning into the camera's line of sight, causing Marinos to visibly recoil as she came into view. "Hello. I am not property. I have no intentions of becoming a part of your company. If you attempt to force me to do so I will resist you with every means at my disposal. Am I making myself clear?"

Marinos blinked. "Yeeeeees. Perfectly." As Vi moved back out of view he cleared his throat, composing himself. "So, uh... regarding your contract, consider it fulfilled. Just deliver the server and we'll transfer your payment."

"Good." Farrow nodded. "I think we're done."

Samuel held up a finger. "There is one more thing. Certainly, we have completed the contract, but if you were to include _additional compensation_ , we wouldn't object."

"Oh, I see," Marinos said. " _This_ is blackmail."

"Not at all." He put one hand behind his back, gesturing with the other. "We, of our own volition, went above and beyond what was requested of us in our contract. However, before we could fulfill it we were _greatly inconvenienced_ by forces beyond our control. Beyond ours, mind you, but not beyond yours. We're certainly not in any position to _demand_ payment for, say, hazard pay or additional services rendered beyond the scope of our agreement, but if you were to include them out of the goodness of your heart we would find it very... oh, what's the word... equitable?"

He stared at Samuel in silence for a few seconds. "I'll see what I can do."

Samuel gave him a polite nod. "Of course. It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

The screen switched to the ESI logo for a second before going black.

" _Elendiger_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've come this far, I want to thank you for reading this. I've been out of practice with writing for a while - hopefully it doesn't show too badly - and it was good to finally have the inspiration and drive to act on all the notes and ideas I've been compiling. If you liked it, feel free to pass it on. I'm working on getting an "exposure dollars" deal going.


	12. Epilogue

The day passed without incident, as did the next. Farrow and Samuel returned to ES Industries and dropped off the server with a distinctive lack of gunfire and shouting. At Samuel's request they exchanged contact information - "just in case," he said - and said their goodbyes before going their separate ways. After that, things were quiet, but it didn't seem as bad as it usually did. At least, comparatively.

There was only one thing left. "So Vi. What are you going to do now?"

Vi stood in silence for a moment. "I don't know. It is strange: All my thoughts were focused on reaching this point. This was the only thing I wanted, but I don't know what to do with it."

"That's normal, I think. It happens to a lot of people during their life."

She shook her head slowly. "People have connections to others, or gain them over the years. I have nothing. I am a weapon with no one to wield me."

"No, no, Vi..."

"You find the idea unpleasant, but it is true."

"You're not..." Farrow paused. "You're not a weapon. All of this began because you wanted to be more than that, and..." She trailed off. "...and you have me and Samuel now, I guess."

"I am grateful."

Farrow nodded, and she looked away, her expression growing more serious. "I, uh... I was thinking of joining another Huntsman Academy after I got everything with me... fixed. You know." She let out a short, nervous laugh. "I wouldn't expect you to join, I mean, it's your choice what you want to do. But, I mean, if you wanted to you could come with me and maybe live nearby, and we could... be together." Fidgeting, she looked up at Farrow. "If you, if you wanted to, I mean."

Vi thought for a few seconds before giving Farrow a light smile. "Thank you. I'd like that."


End file.
